These Are A Few Of My Favourite Things – Part One – The Albums

No raindrops on roses nor whiskers on kittens; No bright copper kettles nor warm woollen mittens, but these are a few of my favourite things.

In idle moments I have sometimes wondered which records I would take with me if I were ever invited on to Desert Island Discs, not that I ever will be. The castaways on Desert Island Discs are asked to select eight tracks. I’ve chosen eight albums instead.

Over the years this selection has changed from time to time, but there is a pretty consistent hardcore and if I were to have to settle on eight records, this would be my list. The factor that made me come to the conclusion that these albums would be my desert island discs is that they reside in my head to the extent that it’s almost as easy to listen to them in my mind as it is to put the CD on.

Selling England By The Pound - Genesis

I know that I am not alone in thinking that this, the band’s fifth studio recording, is the quintessential Genesis album. I discovered prog rock at school, in the Sixth Form in the early-mid 1970s, or perhaps I should say that I was subjected to it at first. My first exposure to albums like Close To The Edge (of which more later), In The Court Of The Crimson King, and Foxtrot was not auspicious. Selling England By The Pound (SEBTP) was slightly different; more accessible and with better melodies, closer in form to the sort of light classical stuff my parents might play at home. It was possibly the first album I heard that contained music that actually provoked an emotional response: it gave me goose bumps, and made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. It still does, and if you don’t get that sort of reaction when you hear Tony Banks’s piano introduction to Firth of Fifth, or Steve Hackett’s guitar solo in the same song then that’s a shame.

Close To The Edge - Yes

What is this noise? That was my first reaction on hearing Close To The Edge (CTTE). As we had only four resident albums to go with the record player in the Sixth Form block, CTTE was on pretty heavy rotation; constant exposure meant that it wheedled its way into my head, and stayed there, becoming a firm favourite. Like SEBTP, CTTE is the fifth studio album produced by this band (the albums were released within a year of each other), but while the Genesis line-up was consistent for many years, Yes always seemed to be in a state of flux, with members coming and going at will. CTTE is my favourite Yes album (just, Fragile is hard on its heels). What CTTE and SEBTP have in common (to my ears) is variety within a structure – the tracks fit together, similar but different, but whereas SEPTP is clearly a collection of separate pieces, CTTE has always been a single piece with the title track and And You And I all one, and just Siberian Khatru standing alone. And, like Selling England, Close To The Edge – especially the title track – gives me goose bumps. Roger Dean’s artwork for the album is instantly recognisable and adds to the sheer glory of this record.

Dire Straits

The first, eponymous, Dire Straits album blew me away. I had heard of their single, Sultans of Swing, from work colleagues, and when I heard it for myself could not think of anything to compare it to. The album, which was released in 1978, has become a bit of an afterthought in the wake of Brothers In Arms which came along in 1985 and from which Money For Nothing became one of MTV’s most played music videos. Where Brothers In Arms was slick, highly accomplished and had lavish production values, Dire Straits (the album) was raw, exciting, and different, redolent (for me) of East End pubs and Soho clubs.

The Underfall Yard – Big Big Train

The Underfall Yard was my introduction to Big Big Train, and to be honest if I had discovered them at an earlier stage in their career, I’m not sure I would have persevered. The Underfall Yard was their first with David Longdon as lead singer, and his Peter Gabrielesque vocals were an instant attraction. Comparisons with Genesis are obvious, even apart from Longdon’s vocals, but BBT have their own sound that includes much brass (live, they employ a five-piece brass band), violin, and that prog stand-by, flute. For any Genesis fans who wanted a new proggy album by the band after they went poppy, this is the closest we’ll ever get. If you can listen to Victorian Brickwork or the title track without getting a little emotional, then I’d be surprised. This album does what all good music should, it stirs the soul. Since the album was brought out in 2009, BBT have released six further studio albums; all are good, but this is great.

Hand. Cannot. Erase – Steven Wilson

Steven Wilson is one of the most prolific men in music. His band Porcupine Tree (sadly now defunct) were my way back into prog rock in the early years of the 21^st century. Apart from his many side projects and work remastering classic albums by bands like Yes, and Jethro Tull, to name but two, he has released a number of solo albums, of which Hand. Cannot. Erase is by far his best. It is based loosely on the life and death of Joyce Carol Vincent, a young woman who, having cut herself off from family and friends, died alone in her north London bedsit in December 2003, but whose body was not discovered for two years. Like much of Wilson’s work, the album can best be described as melancholic. Ironically perhaps, the stand out track has the happiest title, Perfect Life.

Milliontown – Frost*

I cannot now recall how I discovered this album, but what I do remember is that it was played at least twice through immediately it arrived. From the swirling, and sometimes frenetic, keyboard driven opener, Hyperventilate, to the sprawling twenty-six minutes of the title track that closes the album, the whole thing is a joy. Frost* fit into one of prog’s many sub-genres (neo-prog in this case) although I find it difficult to really care about genres, and does it really matter, when Milliontown’s composer, Jem Godfrey, has written for Atomic Kitten and won an Ivor Novello in May 2006 for the bestselling single of 2005, "That's My Goal", for The X-Factor's Shayne Ward?  It’s all just music; genre matters less than whether you like it or not. Two more Frost* albums have followed, but this is streets ahead their best.

The Nightfly – Donald Fagen

“I’m Lester the Nightfly, hello Baton Rouge”

Donald Fagen and Walter Becker were the core members of Steely Dan, a band with an ever changing cast of session musicians. This, Fagen’s first solo album, was released in 1982; it’s jazzy, bluesy, and sultry, evocative of smoky music rooms. The lyrics are thoughtful, nostalgic and perfect to listen to with a nice glass of your favourite tipple, the windows open and the curtains sighing gently in the breeze of a summer evening. In the title track, Fagen is Lester the Nightfly, the late-night DJ on WJAZ, chatting to an audience of insomniacs and lunatics, and it’s perfect.

The Lexicon of Love – ABC

The Lexicon of Love, ABC’s debut album released in 1982, is a lush offering of strings and guitars, and although I don’t think that it achieved songwriter Martin Fry’s ambition of fusing punk and disco (there’s not even a glimmer of punk in this album to my ear), it fitted perfectly into the new-wave, synth-pop explosion of the early 1980s. In the days when album length was still largely dictated by the limitations of the vinyl LP, The Lexicon of Love comes in at a very spare 37 minutes and 25 seconds, and there is not a second wasted. For my money, this is the perfect pop record, and if I could take just one of my selection to my desert island, this would be the one. I never tire of it, and if The Look of Love isn’t the most perfect pop song ever written, I don’t know what is…unless it’s Show Me…or Poison Arrow…or Tears Are Not Enough, or…